A Symphony of Dreams
by Evanescence
Summary: Dreams are silent insanity, where everything can mean nothing, and nothing everything.


**Author's notes:** (06/20/04) Firstly-- I haven't updated this silly thing in ages. I have a few scattered pieces laying about, so expect to see something new ...eventually.

I'm going to slap a brief introduction in here, because without explanation, this series will make absolutely no sense.

What am I doing? I'm writing a series of dream sequences had by various FFT characters. Dreams are incredibly versatile, and best of all, they aren't required to follow the common laws of reality (or better yet, the laws of physics-- besides, we all know how well _those_ work).

Some dreams will be based on events that actually took place in the game, and others will be my own creation. The point? To get a better look inside the characters' minds, to explore their personality flaws, their fears, their desires, their grandiose fantasies, etc.  
  
Whether or not chapters contain waking moments depends on the content and how the 'story' will end.

Notes:  
-On the subject of spoilers: If spoilers are present, I will do my best to warn you in the beginning of chapters, as I don't want to ruin the game for anyone.  
-My writing style will change with the mood of each piece in order to get my point across better.  
-There is no definite end to this series. It will continue on until I feel that my inspiration has run dry.   
-Comments and criticism are always welcome, as always.  
  
(Good grief, just shut up already.) Make sense? Good. On with the dreams!

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Delita and Ovelia: The Gryphon and the Unicorn   
(Originally written in July 2002)  
By: Evanescence/Aubrey Osiris 

**Spoilers!** If you haven't completed the game, you may not want to read further.  
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Welcome to the first dream in the A Symphony of Dreams series.   
I know the topic of Ovelia's death is somewhat popular, but I had an overwhelming urge to write this. Delita is represented as a gryphon, and Ovelia as a unicorn; in legend, gryphons hunted unicorns, so I thought the idea was fitting (I've also inserted my own version of Delita's ideas on those who manipulate and those who are manipulated). The mood of this piece is flowery and metaphorical, mostly unlike other things I've written... Anyway, it's angst-ridden with a tinge of sappy romance. Ohhboy.  
Enjoy.  
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He had wings, powerful, feathered wings...  
  
_"Hunt the Unicorn as she sleeps!"_  
  
He gazed out into the night; the air was crisp and stung his eyes with a certain sweetness. He inhaled, felt the great chest heave with a fierce pulse of new blood, felt his lungs expand and push against his ribs. Raw energy flowed to his limbs, tainted with an animalistic drive; it threw his senses into a wild frenzy. He smelled her! Tender like a rose, soft as goose down...  
  
"I know who that is..."  
  
_"Yes, and now you must hunt her!"_  
  
"Is this love?" He dove from the cliff-face and twirled with grace, spiraling in the direction of her scent. Oh, how he cherished it...  
  
Minutes dragged on like hours until he came upon her in the field below, absently brushing her face against the grass. She stood tall and proud, pure white with a mane of threaded silk. She looked just as beautiful as he had remembered, holding herself with desired elegance and class. Aloof would have been the word to describe her; reserved for reasons no one else could see.  
  
_"There she is! Let the hunt begin!"_  
  
"I love you," He whispered as he propelled himself forward with a burst of speed, gliding silently toward his love, his Unicorn...  
  
She looked up just in time to see him draw near. Her heart froze and she whinnied in fright, throwing her cloven hooves into the air, littering the ground with severed blades of grass. She stepped on them with force and pointed her horn upwards in the vain hope that it would ward off her attacker. It shined with drops of silver dew that glinted in the retreating light; she herself gave off an aura of radiance, as colourful as the new feather dawn descending upon the world. Purples and blues had already begun their journey across the sky, highlighting the vague wisps of cloud that skirted away to the west.   
  
"Why do you point that at me?" The gryphon asked, banking to his left. He remained in the air, circling the nervous unicorn with a smile, a smile that chilled her blood and made her shudder.  
  
"Leave me alone!" She responded in defiance, refusing to back away. Her mane fluttered in the breeze, her entire body shook...what did he plan on doing with her?  
  
"Hurt me!" He laughed, narrowing his eyes and delivering to her a cold glare. "Go on!" He alighted upon the ground with a soft thump and advanced, his face twisted in a grin of malice.  
  
She lifted a hoof and looked into his eyes. Something had shattered there, something had broken... Was it his faith? Or was it his life? His outline was more visible now; it made her take a step back. She was so afraid of him, but she could not understand why...  
"I asked you to leave me alone!"  
  
"Why, Ovelia? I've given you everything you've ever wanted; luxury, a kingdom... a friend!"  
  
"How can one so cold be my friend?"  
  
These harsh words made him chuckle. It was a dark sort of laughter, laced with ice. "If I'm as cold as you claim, then how is it that I have come to love you?"  
  
Ovelia snorted softly and stiffened. Did he love her? She so badly wanted to believe him, to kneel in front of him now and declare her undying love, to remove the deepening pools of hate that swam before her eyes. She felt the slight burn of tears but blinked them back; the words she wanted to speak held fast in her throat.   
  
"Well, my Queen, what do you have to say?"   
  
"...That I love you, Delita. Yet I loathe your existence." Finally, she had admitted it. Was he going to be angry? Or worse, was he going to harm her? She only knew one thing: he would forever be the thorns among the roses; the hungry wolf hiding under the veil of stars. But he was her knight, he saved her from the hands of those who wanted her killed...  
  
Delita did not answer, though his face looked pained.   
  
The sun continued to rise, spilling over the grass with rays of orange and gold. It moved slowly as it struggled to pull above the horizon, then shivered in the unwelcome darkness. Ovelia noticed this and felt a pang of despair travel from her heart to her legs. It was so dark, so cold... he was dark, he was cold! Why did it have to remind her of him? The torment tore her soul asunder, and all she could do was run. She ran as fast as she could, away from the black voids, away from him...  
  
"Ovelia, where are you going?" Delita called after her. Every movement of her legs was lovely to him, and how her mane whipped through the sweet morning air...   
  
"Please, leave me alone!" Came her distant call; no sooner had it sounded it dissolved into a musical set of sobs.   
  
Delita paused momentarily and listened; those cries were the harps of life! So full of sadness, yet so fair! He lifted his head in a proud manner and stared after her. "Ovelia!" He gave chase at once, feeling the thunder of his Queen's hooves as they hit the ground with a symphonic _d-drum, d-drum, d-drum!_ The rhythm dimmed his vision, sped his heart, forced his body into a gliding lope above the field...   
  
_"Don't let her get away, gryphon!"_  
  
Ovelia heard him rushing closer and panicked. She could sense the tapping of his talons, his hot breath, and his vicious gaze preying on her from behind. She felt her own feet pounding against the grass, how it sent a shock through her bones, how it made her want to fall to her knees and give up. But she couldn't give up; she would never let him win. Her eyes teared as she propelled herself forward-- the wind was becoming too strong. It nipped at her face with frozen teeth, stole her warmth...  
  
The sun had come over the mountains. It still retained its look of disbelief, despite the comfort it lent to the race of death. But at this moment, the clouds came to a standstill, the wind stopped, and everything seemed to hold its breath. Not a sound was heard for miles.  
  
The unicorn stumbled over a small stone that lay hidden among the grasses. Her back legs collided with the front, and she fell; down into the dirt, down into the loss of herself, the loss of everything she had lived for. The passing of time ceased as she slid; her mane was soiled and tattered, and her silky fur caked with mud and dew. There she lay, gasping for air, trying to stand. But she couldn't stand... why couldn't she stand?  
  
Delita trotted to her side and sniffed at her face. Blood ran from her nostrils, staining her purity, carrying away her innocence. He adored that innocence and watched it slip as she paled to moonlight. Her chest rose and fell with erratic motion; so very elegant in its own way! Elegant even as the blue of her eyes faded...  
  
A loon wailed in the distance, and the world once again quieted into an uneasy silence. Delita held it dear, finding solace within the death of the blooming garden. Flowers opened their petals as the newly arisen day progressed, reaching for the embrace of the sun; a single white rose grew among them all, the white lioness in a pride of colour.  
  
"Well, isn't that beautiful..." The gryphon murmured, stooping down to stroke its leaves. He carefully traced the thorns with his aquiline hand and refused to stop until he felt a small prick grace the tip of his index finger. "This, my dear, is a unique rose," He began in the direction of the unicorn, as he lifted her chin with a talon, "It was born white, born with a role. And in innocence!"  
  
"What do you mean?" Ovelia asked in a timid voice, wishing the sting of his talons wasn't so close to her neck.  
  
Delita's eyes lost their intrigue and hardened into a pallid state. "Aren't roses the embodiment of innocence? Especially the white ones, hmmm?" He emitted that same frightening chuckle.   
  
"I..."  
  
"All of us are born without a true understanding of the world, as white roses in the fields of other flowers. Untainted souls..." He let Ovelia's chin fall. "But as we grow older, we are brainwashed into living those false lives, until we're all the same!"  
  
"But everyone cannot be the same--" Ovelia helplessly protested.  
  
Delita was unaware of his interruption. "This is society, Ovelia! Watch!" He raised the finger he had pricked earlier, almost reveling in the power of his frigid blood as it dribbled onto his palm. Dark and viscous, a tarnished reflection of his heart... "I have the power to corrupt!" He gingerly touched the rose as he grinned with some intense mental pleasure.   
  
Ovelia gasped as the petals blushed a deep red. Oh, the blood... Then she knew! She knew that he was truly the man she feared; he could change the colours of the rose, just how he changed and used the people beneath him. She was a white rose and he couldn't love her! He was using her all along... Why else would he destroy something so beautiful?  
  
An unearthly silence hung on her next words.  
  
"I... I hate you!" Ovelia leapt up suddenly and drove her horn straight into Delita's chest. His eyes widened, his beak parted, and he stared at her, taken aback. A loud crying resounded in his skull; his crying. Not a cry for help, but a cry of pain... What had he become? Was he so terrible that she wanted him dead? His inner-demons laughed at his misfortune, mocking, jeering! _"Look at what she has done to you now, stupid boy!"_, they said, _"Isn't pain such a wonderful feeling?"_  
  
"O...Ovelia, why?" He pulled away and clutched his wound, but his expression quickly turned to one of anger. Without thinking, his talons darted forward and grabbed the weakening flesh underneath her neck; he pulled, he severed, he took her life in his hands, if only for a brief moment... and then he released her.  
  
Ovelia emitted a ragged sob...oh, why couldn't the harps play for her any longer? He had killed her! She felt more alone than she ever had; dying in a place she knew nothing about, next to someone with a soul that seemed so black. Yet she heard the most wonderful choir of voices, filtering down through the clouds with the scent of freshly fallen snow. Were the angels singing for her? Such a sweet melody for a wretched person, she thought... These angels were so delicate and pure, as pure as the unicorn. But she was a unicorn; how horrible it was! Her eyes moved about frantically, trying to catch one last glimpse of her King's face. Tears blurred her vision, dripped down her cheeks and mixed with the blood, took away her last living moments on Earth...  
  
"Ovelia..."   
  
She forced her head up and gazed at him. Tears filled his own eyes as his life diminished; he looked back at her with such an array of emotions that she was unable to read them.  
  
"Delita, please don't take my roses away..." She whimpered like a lost child. "Please..."  
  
The last words she heard were gentle, spoken softly with care: "I took them because I... I was afraid--"  
  
But it was too late. Ovelia relaxed for the last time, the bleeding rose left beneath her fallen form. Delita reached for a petal in desperation, only to collapse next to the limp body of his Queen. The pain ran deep as he realized the mistakes he had made... "Ovelia, what have you done to deserve this? Yet..." He inhaled sharply, "The roses... they are red!" His blood became colder, his heart slowly turned to stone...  
  
Late morning crept closer, but the sun was obscured by a new gathering of clouds. Low and grey, they wept as the quiet patter of rain washed away blood and tears alike, cleansing the land with their sorrow. The hunt was over; two lovers lay slain, kissed by the winds of Summer, forever lost in the threads of time.  
  
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Delita awoke with a start and instinctively placed a hand on the center of his chest. There was no blood, but a lingering pain made its presence known, gripping his heart like a vice. He threw the sheets from his bed, and, breathing heavily, rushed to his bedroom door. He had to find Ovelia.  
"Maybe there's still time..."   
  
He fumbled his way through the darkened halls of the castle, feeling almost confident that it was really a dream, and not reality. His level of awareness heightened itself as he turned the knob leading to Ovelia's chamber...  
  
She lay in her bed, peacefully asleep. Her breathing was slow and rhythmic, and she held her arms close to her chest, as if she were saying a prayer. He loved how she slept like that, so calm and fragile, her face reflecting the soft smile of some heavenly creature. Delita moved closer until he stood over her; he caressed her cheek and took a step back. Her eyelids fluttered.   
  
"Delita, what are you doing here?" She asked, a thoughtful kindness in her voice.   
  
"I just had a dream--"  
  
"Oh, I'm bleeding!" She cried, immediately standing up. She held out her hands to Delita; they were covered in blood, and among the creases of her palm, a fine red rose lay, its petals partially crushed. "Delita... I, I dreamt that you turned a rose red with your own blood!" She withheld a sob and stepped back, suddenly afraid that the dream was about to come true.  
  
"I had the same dream... please, come here." Delita motioned for her to come to him, but she pressed her back against the wall and refused to move.  
  
"No!" She threw the rose petals at him as best she could and slumped down in a corner, hugging her knees. She began to cry quietly into her nightgown, keeping her face perfectly hidden.  
  
The sobbing still held a musical touch to it. Delita felt his emotions twist; part of him was once again the black gryphon on the hunt, and the other struggled with a potent sadness. "What have I done to her...?" He whispered.  
  
"Leave!" She had never sounded so distressed before, and it brought pain to Delita's entire being, just seeing her upset with him. He could still feel...  
  
"Why are you afraid? I don't plan on doing anything to you," He sounded cool and collected, as he usually did, but it only caused her to cry louder.  
  
"Please don't cry, Ovelia..." Cautiously, he stepped over to her corner. On the way, he picked up the scattered rose petals.  
  
_"Breathe through the petals of this flower and the Unicorn shall forgive you!" _  
  
Without questioning whom the voice belonged to or where it came from, he held the petals to his lips and exhaled upon them. Seconds later, they blanched as if the redness had melted away, leaving nothing but an ethereal white. Delita smiled and knelt next to Ovelia, showing her what he had done. She wiped the tears from her eyes and gave him a look of uncertainty.  
  
"You are still my white rose," He said.


End file.
